Like Home
by jannikajade
Summary: Josh just wants Christmas to be perfect. A little bit of Christmas in July fluff. DrakeJosh. One shot.


**Disclaimer: **Still not even a little bit mine.

* * *

It's cold in New York, colder than Drake thought it would be. Colder and darker, busier too, and more crowded, and a thousand other things that Drake didn't know it would be, and that make it feel so different from home, so different from everything Drake has ever known. He hasn't decided if it's good different or bad different yet, but every time he steps outside he's overwhelmed by just how different it feels. He thinks it's probably a really good thing Josh is here too, that they're doing all this together, because that's something that's exactly the same. He still gets to come home and have Josh there, and sometimes he can forget how far from home they are, how much everything has changed, is changing.

Josh is in his first semester at college, and Drake is recording a second album for Spin City, one that he hopes will make him into a real rock star, will make him famous the way he's always wanted to be. It's a lot of pressure, and Drake's never been good with pressure, but people keep telling him he's good and that he just might make it. Josh always tells him that it's a lie, that Drake's not good he's amazing, and that he _will_ make it. Drake clings to that, to Josh's faith in him and the way it never changes.

Sometimes he thinks it's harder for Josh than it is for him, all this changing, all the ways New York isn't like home. But Josh seems to be trying everything he can to make it as much like home as he possibly can, taking their San Diego traditions and making them into New York ones. Like when he'd found the perfect theater for Bad Movie Tuesdays, or the only supermarket within a half hour radius that stocked Mocha Cola, or when they'd moved in, and he'd split all their stuff from their room at home exactly in half, instead of by what belonged to who. (A lot of it is just _theirs_ anyway, and some of it has been spread throughout the apartment, but Drake thinks it makes sense for everything else too. It's nice to look up at his bedroom walls and see something of Josh's. A little bit like home.) Josh has been trying harder than ever lately, ever since they flew back into New York the Monday after Thanksgiving, knowing they wouldn't be back home till at least March. Drake's Mom and Walter were going to a resort, a real one, to make up for last year's disaster, and Megan was headed off on cruise with a friend. Josh had protested all Thanksgiving weekend, but it had been useless, and since they've been back, he's been doing everything he can to make their apartment as Christmassy as possible.

He adds new things every day, wreaths, strings of lights, ornaments to their artificial tree, and Drake rolls his eyes, but doesn't really mind. It does feel like home somehow, and it makes Josh smile, so Drake goes with it. He even lets Josh take a picture of them in front of the tree for their holiday card, and when Josh's asks him to write some festive lyrics to go with cards; he does, and he doesn't even make them about getting presents. Josh smiles and tells him he's the best, and Drake just grins and strums Christmas carols on his guitar while Josh addresses all the envelopes.

**

A week before Christmas, Drake comes home to find Josh baking, and he grins. The whole apartment smells like cookies, and it makes Drake's stomach growl. Josh has an apron on, a Christmas one, and he's humming as he shakes green sprinkles on top of some star shaped cookies.

"I wanted to finish these before you got home," Josh says, grinning. Drake rolls his eyes.

"I won't eat them till they're done. I promise." He says.

"That's what you always say, then I turn my back and you're eating batter."

"Not true. Sometimes I don't even wait till you turn around," Drake says. Josh shakes his head and hands Drake a mixing spoon,

"Here, I'm done with this one," He says. Drake takes it and grins, licking the sugar cookie batter off. Josh is so good to him.

**

Two nights later, a wave of inspiration hits, and Drake stays up all night, writing songs and eating cookie after cookie, the sugar and the inspiration keeping him until the sun is peaking through the windows. He's sick all the next day, but he has two new songs to turn into Spin City, and no one yells at him about deadlines or recording studio costs or anything all day.

**

Josh is angry, like really, really angry.

"You ate _all_ the cookies?" He asks, face red. Drake shrugs, not sure why this is such a big deal.

"I left a few."

"You left three, Drake, three," Josh says.

"So?"

"So, those cookies were for Christmas," Josh fumes, and Drake just stares at him, still confused.

"It's almost Christmas," He offers.

"But it's not Christmas yet."

"So? What, were we going to do leave them out for Santa?" Drake asks, and he feels a little bad because Josh is obviously upset, but has no idea why Josh is angry, or what to say. Josh glares at him, looking hurt.

"They were for Christmas," he repeats, slower this time, like Drake is missing something really obvious.

"Our apartment looks like some sort of Christmas wonderland; does it really matter if we have a few less cookies?"

"You can't have Christmas without cookies!"

"Seriously, Josh, every inch of this place is covered in Christmas. I don't think the cookies matter."

"It all matters!" Josh yells.

"Why?"

"Because it's _Christmas!_" Josh fumes. Drake blinks. Josh shakes his head and storms off.

"I wrote two songs last night," Drake calls as Josh walk away, because he's pretty sure that's more important than cookies. Josh doesn't turn around, and Drake sinks onto the couch, confused.

**

The next afternoon he leaves the studio early, claiming a massive headache, and stops at the store on the way home. Then he stands in his kitchen, surrounded by flour and sugar and other things he's not really sure what to do with. He looks at it all helplessly, he's never actually cooked anything that didn't go straight from the freezer to the microwave before, but Josh isn't speaking to him, and he has to do something. He pulls out Josh's recipie binder and stares at the instructions in Josh's familiar handwriting, determinded to have at least one batch of cookies done by the time Josh get home from work in a few hours.

**

The kitchen is a disaster. There's flour everywhere, and Drake has burned three batches of cookies, their blackened remains filling the garbage can. He's almost out of the eggs he'd bought that afternoon, and he's spilled vanilla extract all over Josh's binder, making the ingredients blur together. He groans in frustration and runs a messy hand through his already messy hair, squinting at what's left of Josh's instructions, ready to try again, when Josh walks through the door. Drake swallows and looks around the destroyed kitchen, certain he's just made things even worse. He looks up at Josh, prepared for him to freak out. At least this time he'll know what he did wrong.

Josh looks puzzled as he hangs up his coat and scarf and walks into the kitchen,

"Are you… baking?" He asks.

"Trying to," Drake says, watching has Josh's eyes travel the kitchen, taking in the mess, the burnt cookies in the trash, and Drake himself. Josh grins,

"Christmas cookies?" He asks, and Drake rolls his eyes at the obvious question.

"Of course."

"Why?" Josh asks, and Drake stares at him, unsure of how to answer. Josh is grinning, almost glowing, like the mess doesn't bother him at all, and once again Drake doesn't quite know what's going on.

"Because you were upset?" Drake says. Josh grins again.

"You're covered in flour," He says.

"You're not mad?"

"Mad?" Josh asks, looking puzzled.

"Well, you were mad at me last night, and I didn't actually make any more cookies. I kind of destroyed the kitchen. And I spilled something on your folder," Drake says. Josh doesn't say anything, he's still just grinning at him, looking at him the way he does after Drake plays a new song, or plays for a big crowd, or after they've just escaped some crazy situation, or on totally random Tuesday mornings. It's mixed with that other look Josh gives him sometimes. The one that if it was coming from anyone other than Josh Drake would know exactly what it meant. Drake swallows.

"I'm not mad," Josh says after a minute, then adds, "You hate cooking."

"Yeah," Drake agrees, shrugs and swallows again, just watching the way Josh is watching him. Drake itches to touch him, suddenly wants Josh as close to him as possible. So he goes for it, pulling Josh into a hug. Josh pulls him off the ground, spinning him around in a circle, and Drake grins at the familiar feeling. Then Josh puts him down, and before Drake can even think about pulling back, Josh's lips are on his. Drake didn't know that burning cookies was as good as backstage passes to Oprah, but it must be, because Josh is kissing him, and their bodies are pressed together, and just like last time it's familiar and comfortable and Drake doesn't know why, because he's pretty sure it shouldn't be. It is though, and there is a second when Drake thinks it would be awesome if they could just keep kissing forever, but then it's over and Josh is pulling back and grinning sheepishly.

"How bout if we make these together?" Josh asks after a minute, still beaming.

**

That night, after they've made two successful batches of cookies and cleaned the kitchen, and after Drake's had a long shower, they sit in the living room and Drake plays his new songs for Josh, who beams the whole time, still looking at him like he had in the kitchen hours earlier.

"They're amazing," Josh says softly.

"Yeah?"

"Best ever," Josh says, and he's said it before, about other songs and other performances, but he means it every time, and it always makes Drake beam. He puts his head back against the couch cushions and closes his eyes and thinks about playing the songs for huge crowds of people, all of them singing along, screaming the words, and about Josh being right there, standing just off stage, watching him the whole time. He sees it all the time, every day, every time he closes his eyes: the crowds singing along, the people wearing shirts with his face on them coming up to him talking about his music, the charts with his name on them, the sold out concerts, the late night talk show interviews, the magazine articles about his latest project, his own section in record stores- a little divider with his name on it and a selection if his cds he could run his fingers over, and Josh, right there with him, every step of the way. He doesn't remember when Josh had become such a big part of his rock star fantasies, but somewhere along the line it had become impossible to picture any of it without him.

"I'm sorry," Josh says after a few minutes of silence. Drake opens his eye and stares at him.

"For what?"

"Freaking out," Josh says.

"I'm sorry I ate all the cookies," Drake says, Josh shakes his head.

"I shouldn't have freaked out, and I should have listened to your songs last night."

"Why did you?" Drake asks, putting his guitar down on their beat up coffee table and scooting a little closer to Josh on the couch. Josh sighs.

"I'm just trying to fix it," He says.

"Fix what?"

"Christmas," Josh says, shaking his head again, looking a little sad, "last year was so messed up, and I wanted this year to be perfect, wanted to be at home with whole family. But then we couldn't go home so I wanted it to be perfect here, as perfect as it could be with just us," Josh finishes. Drake stares at him for a second, trying to figure out what to say.

"It's always just us," He says, because it's true. No matter who else is there or where they are, it's pretty much just them, always. Josh blinks at him,

"I guess, but Drake-" he starts, but Drake cuts him off.

"And besides, we're already having an awesome Christmas."

"We are?"

"Totally," Drake nods, "We're not facing jail time, we don't owe thousands of dollars in tickets, Megan isn't trying to kill us, and there is real snow outside."

"Not cheese," Josh says, grinning a little, "or ice bullets."

"Nothing that came out of a wood chipper at all," Drake agrees.

"That does make it better than last year, I guess," Josh says. He still looks a little unsure, but he's smiling now.

"Way better, and dude, last year was the best Christmas ever, remember?" Drake says, because it had been. Not the parts leading up to it, those had all been pretty terrible, but Christmas day itself had been awesome.

"It was," Josh agrees, his smile brighter now.

"And we're off to a way better start this year, which means this Christmas will be even better," Drake says. Josh shakes his head again, but that look is back, the one from the kitchen this afternoon. He stares at Drake for a few minutes, just stares like he's trying to figure something out. Drake stares back and feels that same itching to touch Josh he'd felt in the kitchen earlier, but something stops him, makes him wait, and he hates waiting, but this feels important.

"Why'd you make cookies?" Josh says after a little while, breaking the silence.

"Because I ate all the other ones?" Drake suggests, not sure why they're back at the cookies.

"But all this stuff, the cookies, the ornaments, you don't think it's important. You'd be just as happy without it. Just as long as we're not in jail, right? You said it already looked like a Christmas wonderland in here, like maybe it was all too much," Josh says, rambling a little and still staring at Drake.

"Yeah, but you think it's important," Drake says, shrugging. Josh nods,

"It's always just us," He says, and Drake blinks, not sure what's going on until Josh leans forward and kisses him, again. He puts his hand behind Drake's head and pulls him close, and all of the sudden Drake gets it, so his kisses Josh back, putting a hand in his hair and moving even closer to him, as close as possible. And it's like hugging Josh only about a million times better, it's all warm and comfortable and feels like they've been doing it forever, like they should do it forever. It's also exciting and awesome and pretty much the best thing Drake has ever felt in his life, and that itch to touch Josh is stronger than ever, like now that they are touching they might never be able to stop. Josh pulls back after a minute, face flushed, hand on still on the back of Drake's neck, eyes still a little unsure.

"It's always just us," Drake repeats, grinning and leaning in to kiss Josh again.

**

They end up in Josh's room, all tangled in his bed after what seems like hours of kissing, and then there clothes coming off and hands running over skin, followed by lips and tongues and it's all hot and dizzying even when it's slow and tentative; all grinning and laughter and teasing even when it's all sweat and desire and lust. Somehow, it feels more like remembering something he'd forgotten than doing something new and scary, the way it probably should. But it's them, just them, always them, even here, even when Drake can't seem to do anything but whimper and bite out Josh's name. It's ridiculously good, really, and Drake had been wrong about kissing, because this is definitely the best thing he's ever felt.

**

Josh is warmer than any blanket Drake's ever had, and he thinks he might have to start sleeping here every night. He's pretty sure he's never been more comfortable than this moment, in Josh's bed, his eyes heavy and Josh's arms around him. Josh is breathing, deep and steady, already asleep, and the rhythm of it is making Drake's eyes even heavier, making him never want to move again. He's almost asleep when he catches site of a poster across from him on Josh's wall, his poster, one he'd bought years ago, when his room was just his, before him mom ever came home talking about some weatherman she'd just met. It's old, and one corner is a little frayed, and from this spot, from Josh's arms, it looks more like home than anything Drake has ever seen.


End file.
